The Lucy Mills Chronicles: The Trouble With the Herd
by tmpayne80
Summary: A group of varsity athletes, the "Herd" gives Lucy a memorable start to her day. Lucy is confused by the actions of one of them. To make sense of it, she turns to her favorite grandparents for clarity only to learn a new truth. No copyright infringement intended.
1. Part 1-The One that Looked Back

The "Herd" passed my locker in the hallway, by necessity of course. I'd been given the misfortune of being near the weight training room.

With only the warning exchanged mischievous looks, they shoved its newest member my direction. My locker had slammed shut with a loud, metallic "clack". Seconds before, it had been opened so that I could gather my morning materials.

The unfortunate missile had left a small dent just below the grey vents. The smug laughs and back slapping of the instigators had begun in the worst spot to try such a thing. The acoustics of that small section would've upped the volume of a chirping cricket to deafening.

The last letterman's jacket in the group had taken the time to study me and the dent before anyone had noticed.

Instead of essence of "smug jerk jock" I'd witnessed "trapped-decent-human being".

I turned my attention back the groaning heap rolling around at my feet.

No letterman's jacket, only his now dusty football workout shirt.

Obviously one of the freshmen that hadn't learned the system of The "Herd", especially when the coach hadn't been around to put an end to the stupidity they'd called "fun".

I helped him up with a sweet-salty smile.

When you come from the family line I do, vengeance is strongly discouraged. Kindness is the absolute mandate, no matter how painful it might be. Personal opinion plays no role in the actions that follow.

Who are The "Herd"?

This group consisted of the varsity elite of the male variety with all the manners of a society of uncivilized cavemen. A stench cloud of male ego and manly odor followed them wherever they trampled through.

The worst part about The "Herd" mentality is that they knew that many of those in authority would never attempt to challenge their power. Supposedly, the varsity football and basketball teams were the primary source of funding for the school district.

Sometimes I wondered if every teacher had been told to appease the school board members by allowing The "Herd" to perform their year-round routine of terror without intervention.

Ordinary students were encouraged from day one to never oppose their Neanderthal tactics of highlighting their social "authority" in the hallways. I've heard it said that The "Herd" is largest at the dances. The members and their hand-selected girlfriends have a corner reserved for them.

Let me tell you this, the girls that ran with them weren't much better. I would have to say that, in many ways, they were far worse.

Their methods didn't hinge on openly arrogant, brutal shows of force. No, these girls were more brutal with words and with their ability to make others think the worst of their victim.

Should any girl challenge their "superiority", they just found ways to make that girl's life miserable. Quarter-true stories, concocted by the nasty bunch, lost all its truth after it had gone through the "telephone" lines of every locker room in the school.

Let's face it. Guys, will forever be better known for their brutal physical attacks. Girls, on the other hand, have the power of life and death in their mouths.

Understand that standing up to The "Herd" and antics they find funny would be costly to my family. How many girls can proudly proclaim the title "Granddaughter to Snow White and Prince Charming", without appearing delusional or an outright liar?

I wouldn't trade Killian or Emma for a normal set of grandparents. Killian never has to raise his voice or put a finger on his opponent. Being a pirate with a wicked right "hook" has its perks.

Pardon the pun, I couldn't resist.

I, privately, revel in the fact that I am the daughter of Henry Mills and Cinderella.

I like my social life the way it is because of who I am.

The last scene of the morning's excitement stuck with me for the rest of the day.

How I got through the two classes of notes, I will never know. I think my brain had gone on autopilot.

Maybe I should double check them later?

Getting sidetracked again, sorry.

Dad had been waiting for me by the curb in Grandma Regina's car, as always. I didn't breathe even a little relief until the shadow of the school had been in my passenger side mirror.

The relief flooded my mind and soul once we passed through the city line.

For a place that has had more than its fair share of drama-trauma, it had been a safe haven for me.

I dialed Emma's number, only to have Killian answer the phone.

At the moment, the thing I had needed the most was to have someone to talk to about it. I do my best reasoning aloud rather than in my head. If I stay in my head for too long, the confusion never clears up.

"If it's okay with you dad, I'd like to go to Emma and Killian's."

Dad smiled without turning his head my way.

"It's fine with me. I want you back home by sundown."

Sometimes I think it bothered dad that I preferred the input of my grandparents to his and mom's. He'd never said so in words, but I could tell when he'd been hurt and when all was well.

Lucky for me, this had happened to be one of those "I-Understand" moments.

He stopped in front of the Emma and Killian's house and kissed me on the cheek. Not wanting to feel the burden of an overweight backpack, I'd left it in the car.

The wide-open front window curtain , a great omen. The chances of witnessing the unforgettable appeared to be a non-risk.

The door opened just as I put my right foot on the bottom step of the porch.

"Come on in, love." Killian stood in front of the door.

Killian's near hoarse, fatigued voice had sent my eyes to the house not far down the road. I tried not to feel guilty, but for me it can be easier said than done. Emma napped on the couch, her feet hung over the wooden arm at the end of the couch.

Killian stroked Emma's hair as he passed her slumbering body. He stopped short of passing the couch to kiss her forehead.

"How does hot chocolate sound? I need some coffee myself." Killian used his hook to push the swinging door forward.

"Sounds great." I'd tried not to let on how guilty I'd been starting to feel.

Killian had made me a cup of hot cocoa and him a cup of coffee on one of the newer machines with, little to no trouble at all.

"Here ya go, Lucy. What's on your mind?" Killian placed the ceramic mug in front of me.

One of those signature "Killian the Charming" smiles hid the beginnings of sleepless circles.

"Now I can see why Emma married you. I know teachers that must have help working one of those machines. Wow."

Killian's response surprised me.

No offense taken. It had appeared to me, to be taken as a compliment.

"I can thank my girl, Hope, for it. Beautiful she is, but sleepless she can be." Killian pointed to the family picture on the wall.

Toddlers…

"Is somebody bothering you at school. I can fix it." Killian turned his attention to my unspoken issue.

The image of The "Herd" stampeding towards the nearest refuge while Killian's confident strides followed them, offered me a dose of temporary satisfaction.

Tempting…very tempting indeed.

"It is school related, yes. It has to do with a group of somebodies. I have to deal with it, even though the idea of you sending them running would be entertaining."

Killian chuckled.

"Anyway, one of The "Herd" shoved someone into my locker this morning at school." I continued my story.

My mental movie paused on the scene where the guy had looked back at me.

"One of them looked back at me before joining the rest of them." I held the picture in my mind.

Killian had been drinking his coffee, his eyes stayed on mine.

His blue eyes softened, as if understand the brave soul's actions.

He rested the half-empty mug on the table.

"I've been there, Lucy." Killian spoke up.

He detached his hook and placed it on the table, not even a metallic "clink" touched the air.

"He was with his mates. He's not like them but he can't let them know that." Killian leaned back.

It had made sense and yet it had been ridiculous idea, at the same time.

"He's fancies you. He just can't let anyone else know it." Killian put his hand on my resting hand.

"I don't mean to call you a "liar" but I don't see how that can be the case."

In the time I had come to know my grandparents, both of them had embodied the principles of what devotion and true love were.

"Isn't that how you and Emma started out?"

The sound of muffled footsteps approached my chair.

"Not quite, kid." Emma answered before Killian could.

I kept my seat when Emma kissed Killian and took the seat next to him. A story would end my day.

Lucky for me, the sun still had a few more hours of playtime.


	2. Chapter 2-Love's Dysfunctional Course

Emma looked down at my empty mug, remnants of the hot chocolate clinging to the rim.

"I've only heard a small part of the conversation. The hot chocolate woke me up." Emma announced.

I thought I had heard dad say that pregnant women have heightened senses, but I hadn't believed it until Emma brought it up.

Killian retrieved our empty mugs before vacating his seat.

"The doctor told me I shouldn't have caffeine. It makes me want it more. Killian knows what I look like if I miss out on my caffeine." Emma mused as she eased herself into the warmed seat.

"Hot chocolate with whip cream and cinnamon." Killian placed the mug in front of her.

"I love you too Killian, thank you." Emma acknowledged his efforts with a quick kiss.

Killian stood behind her chair, his good hand resting on her shoulder.

"Killian and I have a complicated, dysfunctional love story." Emma began after a sip of the cup in front of her.

I pondered what kind of "dysfunctional" they were referring to.

Prime-time, sensational talk shows where brawls were the entertainment?

Survivable, normal life?

Sadistic irony?

The second seemed the least likely of the three.

"When we first met, it was in the Enchanted Forest under less than ideal conditions." Emma's head stayed level, but her eyes focused up at an uncomfortable Killian.

"How can I forget?" Killian rolled his eyes in playfully. "Let me see, she pulled me from the rubble of a demolished village, not so bad. I was tied to a tree, had a dagger to my throat and almost became a one-handed appetizer for nearby hungry ogres." Killian interrupted.

Thus began the confusion of the most unlikely love story I'd ever heard.

"Don't forget who you were working with at the time. You were being an arrogant…pirate."

"I helped you climb that bean stalk with the cuff. I wrapped your hand to make sure the giant hadn't noticed your cut. I helped you find the compass. What did I get for it? Chained up while you escaped."

"We, mom and I, went to the dungeon to find magical key home. You took the compass with you and left us in the cell."

At no point, any of this resemble a hostile argument between a husband and wife.

The exchange had been more of a reminiscent banter between to people suited for each other.

"Don't forget the sword fight?"

Sword fight?!

Real swords with the potential of inflicting death?!

This recollection of memories exceeded the level of dysfunctional weirdness that I'd expected to hear.

"You have a wicked left hook, love."

Killian snickered along with Emma at his well-timed pun.

"Now you know that you're not the only one with a hook." Emma returned with one of her own.

"Anyway, you double crossed me when we needed the magic bean to get to Neverland."

"I came back, didn't I?"

The discussion soon became too confusing for me to follow.

I had to redirect it to make sense of all this information.

"Definitely dysfunctional. Who kissed who first?"

The Emma craned her neck backwards, Killian's eyes met hers.

"I kissed Killian first." Emma volunteered with a smug smile on her face, "Call it a challenge that I couldn't turn down."

Killian hadn't denied the accusation I'd heard her imply.

"It may have been an arrogant move on my part, but I don't regret it." Killian admitted, a touch of roguish charm tinted his posture.

My eyes widened, my posture straightened.

Call me shocked.

I'm a bad liar.

I have my Emma, dad, and mom to blame for it.

What my mouth doesn't inquire about, the rest of me will.

My face betrays me every single time.

Killian massaged Emma's shoulder, the electricity of his eyes dulled down to a summer sky blue.

"Emma changed my life with that kiss. After I'd lost Mila, I'd become a man without a heart. Emma proved to me that my broken heart still worked and that I could love a woman more than I ever had before."

Emma reached for his hand with one and wiped her eyes with the other.

"Emma passed the test of True Love, in more ways than one, when she braved the horrors of Hades to save me."

Hades?!

The literal underworld where the condemned are supposed to spend eternity for their life's thoughtless, remorseless stupidities?

"There is a literal test, apparently few people pass." Emma confirmed the story.

"When my Emma loves someone, she won't give up until she succeeds. If she hadn't been so determined then, Hope wouldn't be sleeping upstairs now."

Emma leaned into Killian's hand.

"Neither does Killian. He's survived one last trip to Neverland, a jealous fairy's curse, and a fallen bean stalk all to be with me. After the life I've had to live, I can't see my life without him in it now."

The story between them had drown out the invasive cynic within my mind.

What were the chances that I'd find the same thing in another person?

"You can never know what another person is like unless you get to know them. That requires time." Emma invaded my thoughts.

"Emma's right, Lucy love. Give him a chance if he asks for it. He might surprise you." Killian looked directly at me.

The truth to Killian's advice conflicted with the nagging fears that never stray far from the forefront of my mind.

If he'd asked and I gave him that chance to get to know me, avenues of rejection would open wide. On the off chance that Killian's conclusion was correct, he might not be strong enough to break from the "Herd". His strong need for me would be short lived, at best. That would leave me alone once more in a spotlight I preferred to avoid all together.

My fears weren't loud enough or powerful enough to remove that single thread of possibility that he'd be someone of stronger character than I'd thought.

The warmth of Emma's hand warming the top of mine pulled me from the jungle of thoughts intermingling in my mind to the present conversation

"We made each other better, even if we hadn't planned our journey." Emma reinforced her words with the motherly radiance shining in her eyes." Lucy, Killian and I struggle still struggle with our own demons. In the time that we've been together, I've found out what it means to be at peace with what's behind me. The future doesn't scare me as much as it had when I was your age."

Okay, a life of solitary, near friendless living had left me jaded.

Mom and dad…Luck!

Emma and Killian…Perfect Luck!

Grandma Snow and Grandpa David…Had to be Luck.

Me and anyone within the "Herd"…Forget about it!

Killian moved from Emma's seat to behind mine.

"Don't count it out, love. I made that mistake once. I'd hate to see you do the same."

"What are the odds that he'd want anything to do with anyone like me, anyway? The "Herd" has a leader and he does all the thinking for the group. Nobody has ever been willing to challenge that decision. Those that challenge him find themselves at the receiving end of the stupid, immature crap they pull in the hallways." I hunched my shoulders in defeat.

Killian's softened blue eyes and fatherly grin hadn't needed words. Emma looked up at him and then to me.

"If we, Killian, and I, can overcome the worst of our natures, what's not to say that he can't do the same? Maybe he's been looking for someone that might give him the strength to change what needs to be changed. We all of power, especially when it comes to the power a woman can have over a man."

Emma's proposal, impossible.

Why would he?

The teenage survival instinct hinges on safety in numbers. It's learned during elementary school and becomes a way of life all through high school. Losing that cover means relentless criticism that can't be contained within the walls of school. The internet's vast, untamed territory is inhabited by in the inhuman and cruel.

So again…why would one of the "Herd" abandon such a place of infinite safety.

"Give it time. You'll find we're right." Emma leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

I hoped she'd been right, despite my dogged pessimism.

Okay, Time!

Your turn!

Please prove them right!

I don't want them to be wrong.


	3. Chapter 3-Best Worst Day Ever

A freak storm had pounded the roof of my dad's car right when he'd turned the ignition. That same rain stopped about the time I stepped out of the car onto the school steps, the sun just about blinding me when a few stray rays bounced off my cellphone face.

Such a drastic change of weather in mere minutes, a clue to the day ahead?

Yes, I just hadn't been aware of it at the time.

I pulled the straps of my backpack closer to my shoulders when I'd noticed the uncharacteristic serenity of the smoothly flowing hallway traffic.

No obnoxious laughter from any direction, not the normal I'd come to know.

The teachers stood further from their doors, smiles and hints of laughter lit up their faces.

I stood in front of my locker studying every inch of its, now smooth, surface.

The magical disappearing dent?

My cellphone alarm beeped. I watched for the cloud of dust and listened for the rumbling of oversized athletic feet that had always cut a path past my locker every morning around this time.

Nothing.

Everything in my head reasoned this experience away as some elaborate dream I'd have to wake up from and face the reality of high school life.

"Ms. Mills, don't be late." The school nurse passed me up.

The rest of the day had gone better than I'd ever expected it to.

Dad's expression when I got into the car had wavered between concern and pleasant shock.

Apparently, high school had been taking away my smile at the end of the day.

"You have your mother's smile." Dad pulled away from the curb.

The brilliant vibrancy of my mother's smile, to me, has always been one of her best assets.

For dad to say that I possess it, made my day that much more unbelievable.

"Thanks dad. Best day ever."

The resident pessimist in my mind tried to rob me of my better mood with dire warnings of a worse day tomorrow.

Normally, I emphasize NORMALLY, the shoe dropped within hours of my best days. If I got lucky, it would take a whole day to catch up with me.

"How does a shake from Granny's sound before we head home?" Dad passed our house, headed for downtown.

I may not always come to him when faced with a crisis, but he'd always had this strange gift of knowing how to make a good day better.

"Sounds great."

At first, everything inside Storybrooke's social central appeared in order. Nothing to ruin the best day I'd had since the first day of my freshman year.

Killian had his arm around Emma's shoulder, Emma's head resting on his arm. Hope licked the thick strawberry malt liquid from the straw, residual malt mixture created a messy mustache.

Behind them a man in his late 30's, early 40's sat across from a shaved teenage head. I hadn't recognized any of them, in passing. Lately, the population had grown.

A quick glimpse of the boy's face sent shocks of "flight" into my legs.

There HE was.

Yep, the other shoe dropped in the one place I hadn't expected it to.

Emma turned around, smiled, waved, and hesitated when she'd caught a glimpse of the kid behind her.

I hustled to the side that only allowed for a view of the back of my head.

Why did I do this?

Emma, the human lie detector and master of prophecy, would have read my face in less than a second.

Baldy, the guy that had intrigued and annoyed me at the same time, would keep his conversation going with the person across from him.

"Hey there, Lucy, I know a good day when I see one." Ruby at the head of the table holding her order pad and pen.

My response had been a low-key nod.

"Okay…." Dad sighed in obvious confusion.

The first thought in my head had been to make an excuse that would grant me an instant out.

"We'll take two strawberry shakes, extra thick. Please, Ruby." Dad eliminated that idea.

Dad leaned back against the booth's cushions and drummed out a four-count beat with his fingers, all while transitioning his gaze from me to the bald kid behind us.

Dad's inquisitive, subtle gaze hadn't burned a hole into me the way that Emma's intuitive, all-knowing smirk did.

"I'll explain later. I promise." I whispered.

I'd kept my head down until after he and the man with him passed us up.

"I'll be right back, dad." I stood up, heading the direction of the bathrooms.

I headed to the darkest stall for reasons unknown, even to me.

"Lucy, the guy wanted me to give you this when he left."

Ruby slid the napkin under the door.

Her footsteps faded into the distance before I picked up the delivery she'd left for me.

 _I was a jerk Friday morning. I'm sorry. I hope the locker repair makes up for it. By the way, your secret is safe with me. See you around._

That explained the like-new locker door.

Still that hadn't explained the glorious absence of "The Herd."

Who was he, anyway?

Emma walked through the door, Hope in tow.

"I'll be right here Hope." Emma reassured her potty-dancing little girl.

I folded the napkin and placed it in the one place I knew where it would be when I needed it.

"That was him, wasn't it?" Emma crossed her arms.

"Yes. Just with less hair than I remembered him having and no jacket."

Why lie?

"It didn't take much to figure out." Emma divided her attention between me and the stall door.

Emma's arms uncrossed, and her hands rested on my shoulders.

"Better than 'I-told-you-so.'" I looked up.

Emma helped Hope to wash her hands and face at the sink before sending her out the door, where I knew Killian would be waiting to take her little still sticky hand.

"The journey begins. I won't tell Killian he was right, but I'm sure he already knows." Emma kissed my cheek before leaving me standing in front of the mirrors, confused.

Okay, so he's a resident of Storybrooke…makes things a little less complicated.

The question remained…Who was he?


	4. Chapter 4-The End and The Beginning

Life has a way of working around the best strategies, especially if there's unfinished business to contend with Unexpected.

The word that sums up how everything worked out where the "Herd" was concerned and the friendship I'd end up in.

Yes, not what I had expected as an outcome.

At first, I'd changed my routines for getting to class. Lunch took place in the court yard rather than in the overcrowded lunch room. Dad had been the first in line to pick me up five days straight. My active tactics to avoid 'Him" had been about as subtle as a category 5 hurricane in all it inglorious splendor.

Life will force you to deal with unfinished business, whether we want to or not.

The scent of the salt water floating on the breeze and the glimpse of the Jolly Rogers rolled up sails lured me from the refuge of my room.

Avoidance had come with the undeniable need to decompress.

Apparently, I hadn't been the only one who had answered the call of the beckoning breeze. Every shop's opened windows breathed in nature's offering. The light wind's invisible fingers toyed with the fabrics of splayed open curtains.

My hair fluttered in the breeze. The sunlight brought the red tint out in my bangs.

I had anticipated a mind-opening, relief-bringing conversation to help me better cope with the coming school week.

Killian's Irish lilt and a strong English accent captured my attention as I squeezed the hand break of my ten-speed.

So much for a one-on-one conversation.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when had caught a glimpse of the other man.

The same man that had been with "him" at Granny's.

Anybody but him!

Killian looked up had glanced up at me and smiled that irresistible smile.

No turning back now.

Killian's face shined as he leaned into another conversation. The way his hook gestured my direction implied that it had been about me in some way.

I put the kickstand down, chained my bike to the light post, and journeyed down the pier. I scanned the environment before me in search of any sign of the one person I had gone to great pains to not see.

Killian opened his arms and pulled me into a warm, temporarily-comforting hug.

"Lucy, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Killian turned his attention to me.

"It's too nice a day to spend in my room." I lied.

"That it is, love." Killian side hugged me.

The man looked at me, an odd smile on his face.

"You must be the young lady my son has been talking about." His eyes moved from me to the Jolly Roger.

Horrified.

Flattered.

Surprised.

All applied simultaneously.

"Lucy, this is James Hawkins, an old mate of mine from my pirate days." Killian cut in.

Killian turned to Mr. Hawkins.

"James, this is my lovely granddaughter Lucy Mills."

Mr. Hawkins' two finger whistle assailed my ears as it passed by me.

Footsteps followed the apparent signal.

I either blanched or I blushed when the identity of those footsteps materialized before me.

"Killian, this is my son Ian." Mr. Hawkins draped his arm around his son's shoulders.

Ian tried to turn around to go back aboard the Jolly Roger, to no avail.

"Son, tell him your real name." Mr. Hawkins pulled him closer to his side.

"Killian James Hawkins. May I please get back to work, dad?" Ian pleaded.

Killian's eye brow raised, an obvious gesture of pleasant surprise.

"Go on, my boy." Mr. Hawkins released his son.

"You named him after me." Killian turned his head away, redder than a bad sunburn.

"You saved my life. I was never able to return the favor, so I figured naming my son after you would be the next best thing to do. He prefers Ian, tells me that Killian makes him sound old." Mr. Hawkins gloated.

It had been my turn to save Ian this time.

Killian dismissed me with a gentle nod and understanding expression on his face.

I found Ian, paint brush gliding along the inside of the rails, focusing on the job at hand.

I'd wanted to say "Missed a spot" but that might not come out so well for the Jolly Roger or for Ian.

"I love my dad but that was embarrassing." Ian acknowledged my presence without looking back at me.

"I think you describe every dad. My dad does it to me too." I found the nearest place to sit.

He put the lid back on the paint and rested the brush on the lid.

He found a place next to me, unsure of what to say.

I wasn't sure myself.

"I apologize for being such a jerk last week. My dad raised me better than that." Ian broke the indecisive silence.

"Not forgiven" screamed in my head.

"You made up for it." I shoved my natural response aside.

Instead of a pompous jerk, I found myself talking to someone as storybrooke-normal as me.

"Do your buddies know about who your dad is?" I turned my head far enough to catch only glimpse of his face.

I knew the answer before he'd said it.

"No. My coach would think I had a concussion and my teammates would have made my life miserable. I just tell them that he's a contractor that works on boats. You know, something normal, lame." He studied a paint splotch on his coveralls.

"Now you know how I felt when Emma and Killian came to the school for the family history project. Emma, my grandmother, is smart. Everything you heard in my presentation was all her." I finally turned my head to get a better view of him.

His light blue eyes only enhanced the darkness of the dark brown stubble on his head. Unlike some of the jocks at the school, he still had all his teeth. At least three members of the football team had lost one of their front teeth for various reasons. A slight five o'clock shadow had darkened his square jaw.

"Dad doesn't know this, but I'd always thought my dad made up the story about Killian Jones saving his life." Ian turned his gaze to Killian.

"Would you believe me if I told you that there's two of him? Killian, my grandfather, talking to your dad on the pier, of course. The other lives in Hyperion Heights as a detective for the police department there."

Ian's confused expression transformed into one of understanding.

"I believe that. Ever since we moved here, I'm learning nothing is impossible."

He sat back up, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

"Let's hope that dad never has to see them in the same place. He might get confused."

I had to laugh at the image myself. I have been told that it had confused Emma, up on meeting him in the wish realm.

"What's it like to be the granddaughter of two of the most respected women in town?" Ian turned the conversation back to me.

Nobody had ever asked me that, not even my parents.

"You're the first to ask."

Ian just watched the waves roll in, not pushing for a response.

The invisible pressure stepped out of the shadows along with the pride.

"Come to think of it, terrifying, at times. Something I can be proud of, others. I hadn't considered it until now."

I wondered about him.

"How about you? What's it like to be the son of a famed cabin boy and the friend of your namesake?"

It had been his turn to look my way and for me to turn away.

"My father expects me to take over the family business. I don't want to. He says if he has salt water in his veins, so should I. As for being named after the infamous, yet celebrated Killian Jones, I share your same feelings. It comes with lots of impossible expectations but I'm proud of it now that I've met him."

The one question that had been bothering me all week had retreated and then returned to the forefront of my thoughts.

"I haven't seen the…football team lately."

Ian frowned at first and then looked up at me.

"The freshman who dented the locker ended up with a concussion. He didn't return to the frosh team for the rest of the season. Coach dropped a surprise drug test, which a number of the varsity apparently failed, and sent everyone else to third string."

Ah, the sweet sound of justice at its swiftest best.

"The seniors rode the second-string bus to the state playoff games and the second stringers got to start. We lost state but we won our conference. I know this because I've been the backup kicker for a long time. We might have lost state but I have never seen a more thrilled coach."

The way he smiled up at me grabbed my attention and refused to let go.

"I'm glad."

The guilt of instant judgment nagged at me, in that moment. I'd thought him to be exact replica of the "Herd's" oldest members.

Emma had been right, AS USUAL. Ian had been a normal guy that had been seeking shelter within a group, wrong or right. I couldn't blame him.

"Can I make a confession? You'll never have to talk to me again if you don't like what I am about to say."

He stood up, casting an ominous shadow over me.

"I guess."

I fixed my eyes on anything but his.

"I misjudged you that day. I marked you off as one of those immature jerks that found it funny. If you'd been any kind of decent, you would've come back for the poor guy who flew into my locker."

Ian nodded his head, threaded his fingers together behind his neck.

"I'd have thought the same thing, if I had been in your place. I wanted to at the time, but I hadn't want to deal with the ribbing I'd get later."

Killian's prediction had been dead-on.

Ian dropped his arms to his side like two anchors.

"I have a secret of my own."

A guilty, sad grin darkened his eyes.

I might be able to hold my own in the weight room, but I'm not as strong as you when it comes to being who I am. I've been faking it for a long time. It gets tiring."

AGAIN, Emma!

"The guys kept trying to fix me up with cheerleaders that were either shallow, mindless robots or ones that had questionable attachments to the team. I'm not into that kind of thing. I don't see what they see in any of them, if you want my opinion."

Emma the Wise.

He helped me to my feet.

"Let's start over again."

It made sense to me. Emma had always been one to tell me to give others a second chance.

"I'm Ian."

Killian had been watching the scene from the pier.

"I'm Lucy."

Both of us had our hand shoved into our pockets.

"It's almost lunchtime. Would you like to get a burger with me?"

A date?

"It isn't a date or anything. Maybe we can be friends, you know?"

My loud roar of my empty stomach provided the answer.

"I'd like that."

I can tell you that the "Herd" never again terrorized the school. Rumor had it that the seniors with the hopes of full ride scholarships lost them because of a near lawsuit. The mother of the freshman had settled for an strict, punitive punishment with the star players that had cost them their NCAA dreams. Ian told me that they had transferred for that reason.

As for Ian and I, he's been the shadow I've been able to count on.

In the words of Killian, we've made each other better.


End file.
